


Bad Day

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Sex, Best Friends, Boys Kissing, Comfort Sex, Drunk Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All they seem to have is misery, exhaustion and a hotel minibar, so Kian and Mark find empty comfort in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day

“Oh god...”

Kian’s groan was soft, but the pain was audible, a legacy to the sheer amount of alcohol he’d been putting away. It hadn’t been the best of days, an obscenely early interview followed by a photoshoot. Mark hadn’t even known that people worked that early, but he’d obviously been wrong. They’d worked that early, and Mark was not keen to have a repeat of that ever again. But somehow he knew it would happen again, in a time not too far away, against his best efforts.

The photoshoot had been far from fun, four tired boys unenthusiastically posing, faked smiles offered up to blinding lights that flashed over and over again until their sleep-deprived heads were pounding like nothing else on earth. He never wanted to see that magazine cover, but then he couldn’t remember what magazine they had been posing for, or if, indeed, they were even going to be on the cover. It had just blended into an endless stream of mindless hours, flashing lights and overly flamboyant photographers instructing them to look moody, or sexy, or tip their heads just a little to the left, yeah just like that darling. Horrible, but he supposed it was necessary.

Necessary for what? The downfall of their sanity?

He shook his head and rolled over, burying his face in the couch and listening to Kian moan softly from the other couch. Two more interviews and a truly unenthusiastic concert later, the two of them had decided the best remedy would be go back to the room and get absolutely plastered, if anything to dispel the guilt that came from remembering all those disappointed faces in the audience; the initial teenage exhilaration deflating as soon as they realised that their idols were going to spend ninety minutes stumbling exhaustedly across the stage, fudging every passionless lyric.

Mark lifted his head slightly to watch Kian roll bonelessly off the couch and land on the carpet, raising a bottle to his lips before realising it was empty and pushing it away. They watched it roll mockingly across the floor and come to rest against the television cabinet; one of those beige numbers that was always the epitome of bad taste, no matter how expensive the hotel. There had been a unanimous bid after the first few rounds to turn off the main lights and have only the bedside lamp, the filtered glow highly preferable in their drunken state.

“Shit...” Mark muttered under his breath, trying to sum up to himself exactly how he felt. Shit seemed pretty reasonable because Kian nodded, the only movement emanating from his otherwise still corpse. Mark rubbed his face into the hard seat cushion beneath his cheek, running his tongue over teeth that were suddenly too big for his mouth.

“Mark?”

“Mmmm?” It was a low groan, and Mark winced at the pain in his own voice. And then even more as said pain thrummed momentarily at the base of his skull, blinding him for a second.

“Do we have anything else to drink?”

Kian knew the answer to that, they both did, but Mark supposed that in his current state Kian may have forgotten the sudden emptiness of the minibar. Mark couldn’t really remember how they managed to empty the lot in two hours, but he suspected that if he could remember he wouldn’t have wanted to.

“No.” Mark replied, reaching out to pat Kian’s shoulder as the older boy groaned miserably. “Sorry.” Of course, Kian was just as guilty for the lack of alcohol, but he felt it needed to be said. If anything to make at least one of them feel better.

“S’alright.” Kian replied, catching the hand that was on his shoulder and squeezing it gently. Realising that Kian wasn’t letting go of his hand, Mark decided the best thing to do would probably be to join Kian on the floor. He did so, his muscles protesting as he slid distinctly gracelessly off the couch onto a floor that was unexpectedly hard beneath the rough carpet. He crawled over to Kian and collapsed alongside him, turning on his side and burying his face in Kian’s shoulder.

Kian’s hand clumsily moved over to pat his shoulder and Mark sighed, moving onto his back and twisting his head sideways to look at Kian.

“Do you feel as shite as I do?” Kian said suddenly. Mark looked at him for a moment, trying to determine exactly how shite Kian was feeling. There were bags under his red, unfocused eyes, hair mussed shockingly, mouth slightly open as if he lacked the muscle control to hold it shut. Kian swallowed, his tongue peeking out to run over dry lips, and Mark nodded.

“Yeah.”

Kian nodded back, shutting his eyes for a moment and then opening them again. “Not surprised. Today was...”

“Can we just not talk about it?” Mark interrupted. “Everyone’s gonna give us shit enough as it is, not to mention any reporters that were at tonight’s show.” It was the longest sentence he’d said in the last few hours, and he knew it would be for the next few. That was, if they could get more booze. Maybe Nicky and Shane would have some. But he doubted he was on the right side of comatose to go retrieve it anyway.

Kian nodded agreeably and rolled over to press his face into the side of Mark’s chest. “Its days like today that I wonder what would have happened if I’d just done something real with my life, you know?”

“Yeah.” And how many times had Mark said ‘yeah’ in the past few hours. But it seemed like the right thing to say because, yeah, he did know what Kian was saying. What if he had done something _real?_

“But then I think.” Kian continued, and Mark was amazed that Kian could still string together a sentence with the amount of booze he’d put away. “We never would have met Nix would we? Or Bry?”

“Yeah.”

“And we might have all drifted apart after high-school or something. I might never have seen you or Shane again.”

“Uh-huh.” Not ‘yeah’, but close enough.

“Mark?” Kian said softly, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at him. Mark looked back unblinkingly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Mark didn’t know what to say to that. What did that mean? You’re my mate and I love you? You’re my mate and I’m _in love_ with you? He didn’t normally say it so... reverently. It was more like: “Love ya, mate.” or something ostensibly macho like that. Mark realised that he’d been silent for a while and that Kian was still looking down at him, his eyes foggy but serious.

“What?”

“I love you.” Kian said again, blushing a little bit this time, and Mark still didn’t know what that meant. He blinked for a second and then shut his eyes, trying to see around the cotton wool packing his head. When he opened them, Kian was still looking at him and he didn’t know what to say.

What would he think if Kian meant what he thought he meant? He couldn’t understand it, that was for sure, but that didn’t stop the fact that it just might be true. And how did he feel about that? Kian was his best friend; that was definite, even more than Shane was his best friend, or Nicky, or Bry, or even Rowen sometimes. And he did love Kian, for sure. He was his best mate.

But did he love him that way?

Shaking his head, Mark knew that he probably didn’t. He loved Kian like someone he was perfectly comfortable with, like someone he could share anything with. They’d never had problems with sharing before; at least he hadn’t thought so. But Kian was sharing this now, and how long had he not shared this fact with Mark?

“Er... what?”

He knew he sounded like a deer caught in headlights. Possibly a deer with mild brain damage. But somehow he didn’t care because Kian was leaning down and his lips were just there...

“Kian?” Mark asked in surprise, his voice soft and confused. And then Kian’s lips were against his and they were moving and oh... Kian was a good kisser. Good at licking along Mark’s top lip before moving to nibble on his bottom, soothing the bites with his tongue and edging inside gently, but still with intent. Mark wasn’t quite sure what was going on; all he knew was that Kian tasted deliciously sweet underneath the unavoidable taste of whisky, vodka and beer.

Kian pulled away finally, his eyes a slightly darker blue than before, and Mark looked up at him curiously. Their eyes connected for a moment, and Mark thought that maybe he saw something there he hadn’t seen before. Not romantic love, never that; but lust and an overwhelming need to share something special that he never had before. He didn’t want a relationship more than they already had, but maybe he needed something extra, just for tonight, to dispel the memories of what had been a truly unpleasant day.

He reached up, his hands curious, and gently traced his fingers over Kian’s slightly furrowed forehead, then down his cheek and under his chin, cupping the strong jaw. Kian gave him a hesitant smile and Mark returned it, the feel of stubble against his hand an alien and almost frightening sensation.

“Just for tonight.” He whispered, his fingers trembling with anticipation as they moved to slide through his friend’s thick blonde hair. “Just this once... to make it better.”

Kian nodded and Mark lifted his head slowly until their lips were pressed together again, his tongue going on the offensive this time and slipping into Kian’s mouth. Kian let out a quiet moan that, while almost inaudible, had Mark’s entire body trembling. Kian’s tongue slid slickly against his own and this time it was Mark’s turn to whimper, his hand tightening in the silky strands clenched between his fingers as his other hand lifted shakily to Kian’s nape, rubbing gently at the skin there.

He’d never considered how it would feel to kiss another man, let alone Kian. The slight press of half-formed stubble against his chin was something he’d never expected to be a turn on, but here he was, moving his fingers from Kian’s hair and caressing the rough cheek, his thumb running down over Kian’s chin where there were more sharp spikes, coarse against the sensitive pads of his fingers. It had never occurred to him that kissing someone with thinner, more chapped lips, that pressed against his more insistently than any girl’s would, would have him moaning unconsciously, needing to get closer, to consume. To be consumed.

“Oh god... Mark...” Kian’s voice was soft, but the need there was unavoidable and Mark felt an unexpected rush of heat tighten around his groin, causing him to harden as Kian captured his lips again, the kiss firmer, more insistent now as Kian moved to straddle Mark on knees and elbows, their hands tangling in each others hair. And what was Mark supposed to do now? He could feel Kian’s erection pressing against his own and, whilst he had expected it on some level, he hadn’t really spared much thought to what they were actually going to do. He knew what blokes did together, of course he did, but when he’d said yes to this it had been a more abstract, sweaty, moving against each other in glowing candlelight kind of way, which in itself was enough to make his cock twitch. He had never thought that maybe Kian might want more than that. That _he_ might want more than that.

Did he want more than that? Maybe.

He found his fingers fumbling almost frantically with the buttons on Kian’s shirt, needing to feel the hot flesh underneath. Kian pulled away just long enough for his shirt to be slid off his shoulders and discarded in a crumpled heap next to him before returning to his position on top, his chest pressed against Mark’s, his lips and tongue moving sensually over the darker boy’s. Mark moved his hands inquisitively over the chest bared to him, the lack of breasts suddenly not a big turnoff. Kian’s chest was firm under his hands, a result of many hours spent in the gym, and he squeezed lightly, feeling smaller nipples harden under his palms.

Kian’s hands were edging underneath his t-shirt now and Mark felt his stomach tighten under rougher, more calloused skin than he was used to. He was almost embarrassed by the needy whines pouring out of his mouth and into Kian’s as the smaller boy’s large, talented hands stroked up and down his sides and across his waistband.

“Sit up a bit.” Kian murmured softly, the tone of his voice making Mark even more aware of the need rising insistently in his own trousers. “I want to see you.”

Mark did as he was bid, allowing Kian to drag his t-shirt up and off. Mark blushed slightly as Kian looked at his naked chest, his eyes darkening in lust. He couldn’t help feeling slightly inadequate when compared to Kian’s more muscled shoulders and smooth stomach, but Kian smiled encouragingly and laid them both back down, his fingers trailing over Mark’s chest.

“Beautiful...” Kian whispered, ducking his head to run his tongue along Mark’s collarbone before bending and taking a nipple into his mouth. The feeling was incredible and Mark tangled his hands in Kian’s hair in an attempt to keep himself grounded as sensitive skin was encased in wet heat, Kian’s teeth scraping gently over the hard nub.

“Kian...” It came out as a choked wheeze, but had the desired affect as Kian crawled back up and kissed Mark again, one hand kneading the dampened nipple he had abandoned, whilst the other one trailed insistently over Mark’s waistband, occasionally dipping just underneath. And oh god, Mark was hard, so hard and aching against the restrictive denim of his jeans. Kian lay down gently on top of him, their lips still working together, and Mark felt himself harden even more as his own arousal came in contact with Kian’s. And Jesus, Kian was bloody hard.

Kian’s fingers dipped once again below the tented denim and Mark let a gasp escape at the feelings of pleasure and sudden fright mixed. No, maybe fright was too strong a word. Apprehension maybe. He was half-naked and it looked like they were heading for all-naked. Kian would be touching him somewhere no other bloke had been, and he would be touching Kian’s... would be expected to touch Kian’s...

Cock. He made his mind form the word. He was going to be touching Kian’s cock, and the sudden rush of lust that filled him at that idea surprised him beyond belief, the apprehension forgotten for a moment. He wanted to touch Kian’s cock.

Kian must have heard the sharp gasp because he stopped what he was doing for a moment, both of them pausing as they searched each others eyes for some sort of validation that they should be continuing with this. That it wouldn’t just fuck things up, plain and simple.

“What do you want?” Kian asked finally, stroking Mark’s hair to calm the slightly trembling body beneath him. Mark didn’t even hesitate.

“I want you.” He may have been drunk, but he knew exactly what he wanted. What he needed. Kian. Who was panting slightly above him; whose kisses tasted like delicious poison. Who was somehow going to fix the disaster that today had been. He reached up and ran his thumb over Kian’s swollen lower lip, delighting in the red flush of arousal that adorned the soft flesh. “What do you want?”

“I want you. Want you to make love to me.”

Oh and that was the hard part. On some level Mark knew that what they were doing was making love. Not love in the romantic sense, but an expression of friendship. It was just another thing to share. But did Kian feel that way?

Kian must have noticed Mark’s slight look of panic, because his lips curved into a comforting smile and he reached down to tangle their hands together, squeezing gently.

“It’s okay.” Kian said softly, kissing the back of Mark’s hand. “Just for tonight, okay? I promise.”

“Just for tonight.” Mark repeated. “I do love you, you know. I just don’t...” He gestured helplessly. “I don't know what I am. If I'm...”

“I know.” Kian replied. “I wouldn’t ever do anything that you didn’t want. You just tell me if you want me to stop and I will. I love you, you know.” He smiled, rolling his eyes self-deprecatingly. “Sorry. I’m rambling. It’s been a fucking terrible day.”

Mark nodded, understanding. Nothing would change between them; it would be fine, forgotten tomorrow and put down to the alcohol and a need for comfort. Which, maybe it sort of was; at least from his point of view. He reached up and ran his hands around Kian’s waistband, from the back to the front, meeting at the top of the button fly.

“Kian?” Kian looked down at him, Mark shuddering as he saw how dark his eyes had become, an almost invisible blue band circling the blown pupil. “Kiss me.”

This kiss was frantic, physical, passionate. Their needy bodies moving hard together, arousals rubbing against each other and causing them to moan into each other’s mouths. The knowledge that this had no consequence beyond the one-time sharing of an experience had the want rising between them, battling with the need to do this slowly, draw it out, savour their one chance. Their hands were fumbling with each other’s trousers; Mark’s removed first with a triumphant grin from Kian. Kian’s were gone moments later and then they were back together, their erections separated only by cotton and silk.

“Mark!” It was halfway between a laugh and a moan as Mark rolled them both over, taking the dominant position, his fingers scrabbling at Kian’s silk boxers, needing to have them off. Kian giggled and pulled Mark’s hands away, kissing them gently to calm him. Mark just yanked his hands back and went for Kian’s boxers again, his tongue lodging deep in Kian’s mouth. Kian reached for Mark’s boxers and tugged slightly, both pairs shimmied out of simultaneously and discarded on the floor.

And then there was something hard and hot and sticky pressed against Mark’s stomach. Yet another hint that hey, Kian wasn’t exactly a girl. But Kian was moaning softly and Mark was too, because his own cock was trapped against Kian’s, held between their stomachs and Christ... was it wrong that this was the best he’d ever felt in his entire life?

No. He thought, looking down at hooded blue eyes staring up at him from under thick lashes. It made perfect sense. It was Kian, and he loved Kian, and suddenly everything felt right. He didn't know if he was gay, but looking down at the panting young man beneath him that cried out and gripped his shoulders as Mark ground down, he thought maybe he could make an exception, just this one time, just to see...

He ground down again, his eyes rolling up as throbbing flesh was crushed between them, listening to Kian groan and feeling the grip on his shoulders tighten. For the umpteenth time that night their lips met, and tongues battled. Kian moaned, pushing up into Mark’s body and Mark slid his hand down between them, desperately needing the feel of Kian’s cock in his hand. He pumped it slowly, feeling the pulse race just under the surface of the delicate skin, and kissed Kian hard, trying to emulate what he did to himself, hoping Kian liked the same things.

He did.

“Mark!” Kian cried, and Mark felt his hand become wet and sticky with the precum that was spilling generously from Kian. He knew he was close as well, but Kian was so so close. Right on the edge, his legs lifting to wrap around Mark’s waist and squeeze tight, pulling them both together forcefully until the grip was almost hurting.

“Oh god Mark!” Kian gasped. “Oh god... please... please...” He broke off, tossing his head back, fingernails digging bluntly into Mark’s shoulders. “Please... too close... Stop...”

Mark halted his movements as soon as the word was out of Kian’s mouth, worried that he’d done something wrong, but Kian just smiled and kissed Mark’s palm. “Shhh...” He soothed, as Mark went to ask what was wrong. “It’s okay.” He took one of Mark’s fingers between his teeth and began to suck and lick along it, wetting it thoroughly. Mark moaned softly as Kian took another finger into his mouth and then another and wetted them as well, imagining another part of his anatomy wrapped in that warm cavern.

When the digits were dripping, Kian released them and guided Mark’s hand down to his arse, pressing gently against his entrance. “Okay?” He asked, stroking Mark’s cheek with his free hand. Mark looked back at him shyly. Now they’d gotten to the serious bit, where it was more than sweat and rutting. This was the real thing and Mark was almost ashamed to admit that yes, he did want it, actually. Wanted to fuck Kian into next week. Wanted to make love to him.

He pressed hesitantly, his wet finger sliding in after a moment’s resistance. God, that was tight, and how would it feel when he was properly inside? The thought made his cock throb and he closed his eyes momentarily, trying to keep himself under control. He looked up at Kian, who smiled back encouragingly, apparently in no pain. Mark needed to ask anyway.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.” Kian’s voice was soft, almost whispered, and Mark smiled at the content lust there. He bent forward and pressed his lips against Kian’s collarbone before pulling back and giving Kian’s lips the same treatment. Kian smiled up at him. “More.”

Mark nodded, pushing his second finger in alongside the first and watching as Kian closed his eyes in ecstasy, a trembling sigh escaping. Lips that were wet and pink and perfect parted slightly as Kian’s breathing speeded up again and Mark carefully spread the two fingers inside Kian, stretching gently, wanting to make this as pain-free as possible. Then, on Kian’s instruction, he pushed in a third and oh... that was really tight.

Kian was panting now, his body swathed with sweat, almost riding Mark’s hand as his hips bucked. Then, suddenly, Mark hit something that made Kian swear like never before, crying Mark’s name and driving down, his walls tightening around Mark’s fingers. He held still until Kian calmed down and wrapped his legs loosely around Mark’s waist.

“Are you...?”

“Fuck yeah.” Kian replied shakily. “Feel free to do that again any time you like.”

“What was...?” Mark thought he might know, he’d heard it before, but he was slightly embarrassed to think that no, maybe he didn’t know and was just going to make an arse out of himself if he pretended to.

“Prostate.” Kian replied. Oh good, Mark had been right. Kian stretched his arms languidly above his head before reaching down and removing Mark’s fingers gently from his arse, kissing them tenderly. “You ready?”

Mark nodded. His cock was throbbing against his stomach, and so was Kian’s. He’d never felt more ready for anything in his entire life. Very gently he pressed himself against Kian’s entrance, lifting Kian’s legs over his shoulders, holding tight to the older boy’s hands as the very tip edged past the ring of muscle and slid in. Kian seemed to be quite enjoying it, was biting his lip to stop small moans escaping, so Mark pushed forward a little more and good god was it tight in here! So so tight, tighter than a girl, at any rate, and Mark could hardly stop himself coming as the tense muscles contracted around his aching cock. He kept pushing forward until he was fully sheathed, held in Kian’s tight, moist, hot, _tight_ body, trembling and whimpering.

Kian’s chest was moving fast and hard, the soft glow of the nearby lamp shining off the sweat that cloaked smooth skin. His eyes were still closed, and they squeezed even tighter for a moment before opening and fixing on Mark, dark and heavy.

“Jesus... fuck...” Kian murmured, squeezing Mark’s hands tightly before releasing one and yanking him down by the hair for a kiss. Kian panted as he released Mark’s lips, and Mark smiled bashfully, pathetically proud that it was him causing that look of content ecstasy on his friend’s face. “You alright?” Kian whispered, shifting a little to get more comfortable, the movement causing Mark to shudder.

“Fuck yeah.”

Kian snickered, reaching up to grip Mark’s nape and tug him down. Their bodies were pressed together now, every inch, Mark still deep inside Kian. Kian slowly started to push down and Mark got the hint, sliding forward into the tight heat before pulling out again, building a rhythm. Kian was kissing him as they moved together, and Mark moved about a bit, trying to find that spot again. Kian’s prostate. Kian was hard against his belly and Mark could feel himself reaching the edge so, in absence of a prostate, he wrapped his hand around Kian’s cock again, stroking and tugging until Kian was keening into his mouth, his arms wrapped tightly around Mark’s neck as Mark moved in and out.

“Oh babe...” It was a throaty whisper, and Mark opened his eyes, not even remembering when he had shut them. Kian stared back from beneath hooded lids, a bead of sweat trembling on his lashes. Mark leant forward to kiss it off, wanting to taste it. Taste Kian.

Suddenly Mark hit that spot again, the taste of the salt stinging on his tongue as the force of Kian’s reaction rocked them both. Maybe he had thrust himself even deeper as he had leant forward, or maybe Kian had shifted a little, or maybe not, or maybe it didn’t matter because there he was and Kian was tearing his mouth away from him and crying his name and then everything was tightening up and oh...

Mark came.

Back arching, he pumped himself into Kian, barely registering the sudden wetness on his belly and hand where Kian had come. It seemed to go on forever, time stopping but speeding up at the same time until it was just he and Kian coming together, on the floor of their hotel room, in the almost-darkness, surrounded by empty bottles, after a miserable fucking day.

His orgasm finally stopped and Kian’s grasp on his shoulders loosened until they were able to collapse on the floor together, panting hard.

“Oh.” Kian gasped after a moment, looking up at Mark, who rolled obligingly to the side so that he could keep the contact without crushing Kian. Kian grinned and pressed up against Mark, taking his hand and kissing it gently.

That had been fucking amazing, at least from Mark’s perspective, and it wasn’t like Kian was complaining. Smiling, he wrapped his arm around Kian’s waist, needing the contact back once he had slipped out, but having neither the strength nor the presence of mind to contemplate anything else further. Kian smiled back and returned the embrace, pressing his face into Mark’s chest and breathing in the sticky smell of sweat and sex, both boys feeling themselves drift towards sleep.

Just before he finally sank into oblivion, Mark felt a gentle hand on his cheek, and Kian whispering softly.

“Thank you.”

 

*

 

“Oh god...” Mark groaned as the grating shrill of the alarm clock pierced his dreams. He was about to roll over and hit the clock when he realised he was on the floor and leaning up against somebody. A very naked someone. A very naked sleeping someone. He looked down, and oh look... he was naked himself. The events leading up to this situation finally began to dawn as he realised he was lying on the carpet, and who he was lying with.

Oh god.

“Get that, would you?” Kian croaked sleepily. Mark nodded, not sure what else to do, and crawled over to the alarm clock, switching off the uselessly bright lamp as he did. He collapsed next to the bed and smiled half-heartedly as Kian crawled over and sat next to him. Mark didn’t really know what to say, so he just sat still, trying to think through the haze of a particularly nasty hangover.

“So...” He said finally. “How much did we drink last night, huh?”

Kian smiled, sensing Mark’s embarrassment, and gently stroked his hair. “Are you alright?” Mark shrugged, not sure if he was or not. Sure it had seemed like a pretty good idea at the time. They’d shared something, hadn’t they? But what if Kian didn’t really feel the same?

“I don’t know.”

Kian sighed, kissing him gently on the forehead. “It’s okay. It was just one night. We were drunk and it won’t happen again. I don’t hate you or anything. I love you, y’know?”

Mark nodded, relieved, and Kian smiled, pecking his lips. Not sexual, just friendly. A lasting impression of the previous night. Mark returned it and they both smiled.

“Come on.” Kian said finally. “Gotta get dressed before Jake comes to get us.” He reached down and ran his hand through the dried cum adorning Mark’s stomach and grinned. “Might need a shower too, eh?”

Mark laughed, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?” Mark said, looking over his shoulder at Kian, who grinned. Mark couldn’t help but smile back. Kian was still his best mate and they’d just had mind blowing sex. What didn’t he have to smile about? Kian winked, reaching for a pair of clean boxer shorts.

“Thanks for cheering me up, yeah?”

Mark nodded, grinning.


End file.
